Updated: July 13, 2017
Originally Published: September 13, 2014
The classic jokes about how marriage kills the spark in the bedroom have been around forever. I remember when my fiancé’s friends, a group of seasoned bachelors, made cheeky comments about how certain “intimate” activities would soon be a thing of the past. My fiancé glanced at me, one eyebrow raised, silently questioning my thoughts. I shook my head vigorously—no piece of paper was going to put a damper on our romance, not a chance. And for a while, it didn’t.
Then came the kids.
Aside from the physical changes that childbirth brought—stretch marks, a sizable scar from my C-section, and some extra weight—there was the relentless exhaustion that came from caring for a newborn. Sure, we still found time for intimacy, but it was infrequent and often rushed. Think of it as “sex lite”—less time, less noise, and definitely less buildup. We tried to squeeze our desires into the calendar, but most of the time, it just didn’t happen.
One night, we returned home late from a family dinner, around 10 PM. Our eldest had fallen asleep in the car, and we quietly carried him to bed. As I closed the door to the baby’s room (the little one was also peacefully asleep), I turned to my husband and asked, “Got ten minutes?” Chuckling, he replied, “Absolutely!”
We quickly shed our clothes and dove onto the bed. Just as I was beginning to think we might have perfectly timed this little rendezvous, we heard our son’s tiny voice: “What are you guys doing?”
Oh no, not now! Why don’t we have locks on our doors?! I felt my cheeks flush, while my husband tried to stifle a laugh by burying his face in my neck. Great, I guess I’ll have to tackle this one alone… “We’re just talking.” Talking? Really? That was the best I could come up with?
“Talking naked?” my five-year-old asked, perplexed. “That’s silly.”
“That’s us, super silly! Did you need something?” Now I was just grasping for something—anything—to end this mortifying moment.
“Did I leave Mr. Bear in here?” my oblivious son inquired.
My husband reached over, grabbed Mr. Bear, and tossed him towards our child. “Here you go!”
“Thanks!” he called back, “Good night!”
I sighed in relief, thinking the ordeal was finally over, but then he peeked back in, as if he’d forgotten something important. “You know… if you’re really talking naked, you’re doing it all wrong. Daddy’s still wearing socks.”
Once our son had finally left, we lay there in bed, laughing uncontrollably. It was side-splitting, face-hurting laughter. Although our romantic plans were derailed, the moment turned into something even more intimate and hilariously real. We ended up munching on microwave pizza and calling it a night. Honestly, that evening was better than any intimate encounter we could have planned.
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Summary:
In this lighthearted piece, Sarah Thompson recounts a humorous and relatable experience of navigating intimacy after becoming parents. What starts as an attempt at a romantic encounter quickly turns into a comedic moment with their inquisitive child, illustrating the ups and downs of parenthood and relationships.